Share this interview

StoryCorps 465: At the Ballpark

For eager fans, April’s arrival only means one thing — the start of the Major League Baseball season. In this episode of the podcast, we hear from people who have baseball in their blood.

We begin with the intense competition that takes places in every ballpark, right in front of you, but not on the field. In stands across the country, vendors roam the stadiums with cases of hot dogs, popcorn, peanuts, soda, and beer, competing with each other to be the top salesperson. And one of the all-time greats is Clarence Haskett.

Known to Baltimore Orioles fans as “Fancy Clancy,” he has worked the crowds for 43 years, having started at an age when he was too young to legally sell alcohol. But once he was old enough, Clancy began selling beer, the vendor’s most prized offering, and during his illustrious career, he has sold more than a million cups to baseball fans in Baltimore — a Hall of Fame worthy-number.

Clancy sat down with Jerry Collier, a former fellow beer vendor to talk about his work.

Our second story deals with another competition that takes place far from the diamond. Anthony D’Andrea grew up in the shadows of the old Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. While he didn’t have the money to attend games, he was often part of the crowd of kids outside the stadium looking for autographs from players as they arrived before the game.

Anthony came to StoryCorps with his daughters, Monica McInerney and Mary D’Andrea, to share the strategy he used during the 1943 season to get the entire Yankee team to sign his baseball.

While the start of the season offers hope for so many, the end of a season — for the fans of all but one team — is often filled with disappointment and despair.

In the 1950s, fans of the Brooklyn Dodgers, who during that decade lost in three World Series to the hated Yankees, knew disappointment all too well. Our final two stories come from Harvey Sherman, a life-long Dodgers fan. Harvey remembers listening with his school friends on a transistor radio as Bobby Thompson hit one of the most famous home runs in baseball history — the shot heard ‘round the world that clinched the 1951 pennant for the New York Giants and devastated Dodgers fans. And later, he recalls being part of a small number of fans that turned up on September 24, 1957, at Ebbets Field in Brooklyn, to witness the team’s final game before they moved to Los Angeles. In that story, you’ll hear the official Dodgers theme song played by the Ebbets Field organist, Gladys Gooding.

Transcript

StoryCorps 465: At the Ballpark

Michael Garofalo (MG): Baseball season has officially begun. And, let’s face it, baseball people can be a little nutty. I include myself in this, so don’t get offended. I think baseball appeals to fans of the offbeat and unusual in a way that maybe other sports don’t.

It’s kind of a strange game with strange traditions full of superstitions. Even the uniforms are kind of odd, if you think about it. I mean, how many major team sports can you name where the players wear long pants and a leather belt?

What else? Baseball has the longest season in professional sports. The games themselves are long, they’re often slow, there’s no clock — these are things that personally I love about the game, but that many people find numbingly dull. I was once at a game and a French couple was seated next to me. About halfway through, they asked me how long a baseball game is and I had to explain that, well, that depends. It could be three hours, or if it’s tied after nine innings, they keep playing until someone wins, and technically the game could go on forever, because you can’t tie in baseball. They looked a little stunned, and then they left at the end of that inning.

So, it’s not for everyone. But when you get hooked, man, you really get hooked. Like the people we’re about to hear from in this episode. These are stories from inside and outside the ballpark, and from people who, for better or worse, have baseball in their blood.

I’m Michael Garofalo and this is the StoryCorps podcast from NPR. We’ll be right back after this break.

Welcome back. Our first story comes from a StoryCorps book, “Callings: The Purpose and Passion of Work,” and it’s about something that happens right in front of you every time you go to a baseball game, but that you probably never knew you were watching.

See, while the game is being played on the diamond, in the stands, another competition is raging between the vendors, those guys who roam around the stadium selling peanuts, popcorn, beer. They go head-to-head trying to be number one in sales during each game. And one of the all-time greats is Clarence Haskett. He’s also known as ”Fancy Clancy.”

He’s been a vendor at Baltimore Orioles games since 1974 and has sold more than one million beers during his career, a statistic that should make him eligible for the Hall of Fame. Clancy sat down with his friend, Jerry Collier, who was also a beer vendor for many years, to talk about their work.

Clarence Haskett (CH): My very first day, I was still in high school. And I don’t know why I remember this, but I made eight dollars and twenty-five cents.

Jerry Collier (JC): I met you probably the second day of my new job where I was a beer vendor when I was nineteen years old. And you just crushed it. When I looked around the ballpark, there was this ray of sunshine everywhere you look. A guy who outworked people, who out-loved all the customers more than anybody else. And I said, “That’s who I want to be like.”

CH: But see, I had little secrets though. I used to move quicker than a lot of the other vendors because I was a sprinter in college. And another thing, you know I had the gift of gab. And I used to do rhymes so that helped me out.

JC: —give me one of your rhymes!

CH: Well back in the old days, I used to use this one a lot, “Hey! Empty your pockets, put your money in your hand cuz here’s Clancy, your beer man!”

JC: [laughs]

CH: So you know, I used to do little things like that. And all the vendors that we worked with, all of us had some type of a personality for doing something.

JC: And if you go into the stadium and you’re number one, you have incredible pressure to be a selling machine.

CH: The way that I look at my job as a vendor, my mindset is I’m a professional athlete. I have to stay in shape, I have to train during the off-season. Because vendors running around with straps around their neck? That’s only on television commercials. Good vendors pick up their case and they carry it.

JC: It’s consuming.

CH: Yea.

JC: It’s in your soul. Put it this way — both of us, when it came to our wedding, how did we plan our wedding?

CH: —Around the Orioles game.

JC: —When the Orioles were out of town [laughs]

CH: Yup.

JC: You know, Clancy, you epitomize to me and so many people all that’s right in the world. If it’s a rainout at the Orioles game and you only sell two cases of beer, in the big scheme of life, that’s not a problem. And I think that’s more than the rhymes and all the rest. You’re larger than life in a lot of ways.

CH: I can always go somewhere and get a free beer from somebody.

JC: [laughs]

CH: I can go into a restaurant or bar that I’ve never been in before—there’s always somebody knew who I was, so… I definitely shake a lot of hands. And as long as I’m still healthy, I know I got another good ten years.

[MUSIC IN]

MG: That was veteran beer vendor “Clancy” Haskett speaking with his friend, Jerry Collier, in Baltimore. Clancy just started his 42nd season as a vendor. And you can read more of his story in our new book, “Callings.”

Clancy may be the most optimistic guy in the ballpark. And it takes a good dose of optimism — along with stubbornness — to succeed in another competitive sport that has grown up around the game of baseball — autograph collecting.

And for this next story, we’re going to the Bronx during World War Two, when Anthony D’Andrea was growing up a Yankees fan. Here, he tells his daughters about his autograph hunting strategies.

Anthony D’Andrea (AD): As a youngster I rarely went to a ballgame, because we never had any money to do that. But in the summertime I would go down pretty much every day to get autographs.

Mary D’Andrea (MD): And is it true that the players used to get there by the subway?

AD: Yeah. We’d wait by the subway stop so you could see them coming readily. And you could spot the players for two reasons. One of which, all the Yankee players had to wear jackets, ties, shirts. And second reason is for 25 cents, you got a book called Who’s Who in Baseball and it had pictures of most of the team.

[MUSIC IN]

One of the Yankee heroes at the time was a fellow named Charlie Keller. And I had gotten his autograph on a number of occasions. But you always got another one because, you know, you could trade and things like that. And the famous remark he made to me one time was, I ran up to him and I said, Mr. Keller, would you sign this? And he said, “Freckles” — cause I had a lot of freckles at the time — he said, “Freckles, how many times you want my signature?” I said, I don’t know. And he said, All right. [laughs]

Monica McInerney (MM): Now, tell us a little bit, you have a ball.

AD: Well, I started getting people to sign it; and the ball was filling up pretty well. And, uh, my father used to get the Daily News every morning. And this one day I noticed that it said, Next Tuesday is an off day but the Yankees are gonna have a workout. So I thought, “Oh good, that’d be a good day to go because there won’t be as many kids around and maybe I can get the fellas that I didn’t get.” You know, because a lot of times the players wouldn’t sign if there’s like 30 or 40 kids after them so they, you know they just brush you off.

I got down there early and I realized I was lacking two signatures to have the whole team. And one of the people was the Yankee manager, very renowned man, Joe McCarthy. And sure enough he comes out and I ask him, “Mr. McCarthy, would you sign the ball? I just need your signature and maybe one other.” And he didn’t say much. He signed the ball.

So now I’m down to one who was a reserve catcher. His name was Rollie Hemsley. So I waited and waited and I thought, “Well, could he have gotten by me?” I didn’t see him come in. And it started to get late and I thought, “Well, gee, I really should go home.”

Well, sure enough he comes out. And I ran up to him and I said, “Mr. Hemsley, will you sign my ball?” He said, “Get out of here, kid.” I said “Aw, come on you’re the only one… if you sign, I’ll have everyone on the team.” He said, “Get outta here kid.” So I just followed him. And I kept asking him.

MM: Now were you scared of him at all?

AD: The funny part is I was a pretty timid kid, but I wasn’t afraid of him. I just kept saying, “Oh, come on. Can’t you sign the ball?” And, you know, he says, “All right, gimme the ball.” And he signed it. And that was that. And sure enough it was the 43 Yankees world championship team.

His story has a happy ending, as many seasons have for Yankees fans. For fans of other teams, though, if this time of year, the start of a season is about optimism, possibility, hope, the end of the season is more often about disappointment, failure — dare I say despair?

In New York in the 1950s, fans of the Brooklyn Dodgers knew that all too well. In 1951, the Brooklyn Dodgers had a comfortable lead over their crosstown rivals, the New York Giants. But as the season drew to a close, the Dodgers lost their hold on first place and had to face the Giants in a playoff game. The winner would get to the World Series.

So on October 3, 1951, the Dodgers lost in spectacular fashion, with pitcher Ralph Branca giving up a ninth-inning home run to the Giants’ Bobby Thomson. Known as the “shot heard ’round the world,” Thomson’s hit is one of the most famous home runs in all of baseball history.

Harvey Sherman was a teenager living in Brooklyn at the time. And like many other Dodgers fans, he remembers every moment of that day.

Harvey Sherman (HS): In 1951, we blew a thirteen and a half game lead and we had the playoff against the Giants. I think a guy by the name of Thomson hit a home run off a guy by the name of Branca. Still hurts to talk about it. Many of our fathers were Giant fans but all of the sons and daughters were Dodger fans because Ebbets Field was a neighborhood place. And those were the days where baseball was during the day. So in 1951 when Thomson hit the homerun, my pals and I were in school. The teacher, Mrs. McPherson, lovely old Irish lady, stopped teaching. ”Put your radios on. Let’s listen to the Dodger game.”

Archival Audio: One out, last of the ninth… Bobby Thomson takes a strike called on the inside corner…

HS: And that’s what happened in the whole high school. Everybody had a portable radio and we all listened to the game, including the teachers.

Archival Audio: That’s a throw…there’s a long drive… it’s gonna be, I believe…THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT! THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT!…

HS: Well, my friend Bobby had his maroon portable radio on. And again, we didn’t have a lot of money in those days. But when Thomson hit the homerun, class was dismissed. Bobby took his radio and he threw it down the staircase. How can you forget it? Sort of like Pearl Harbor and stuff like that. We remember it very, very well.

[MUSIC IN]

MG: Six years later, Harvey witnessed another historic moment for the Dodgers, a moment which was again heartbreaking for Harvey. In 1957 the Dodgers played their final season in Brooklyn, before moving to Los Angeles, where they still play today. Their last game at Ebbets Field, which was the stadium in Brooklyn, was on September 27, 1957. Not many fans turned up for it, only about 7000 in all. But Harvey? Harvey was there.

[MUSIC OUT]

HS: The first two weeks of September the Dodgers were on the road and they were scheduled to come back to Brooklyn for a make-up game with the Pirates, and that was going to be their last game at Ebbets Field. It was my birthday, I was twenty-one, and I was going to go to the game. I’ve asked a few people to go and they had absolutely no…”What are you crazy, you’re going to be the only one there? Who gives a hoot, you know, the heck with them, they’re leaving us, the heck with them, we’re not interested.”

So I went to the game by myself. The lights were on, the grass was as beautiful as it was the first day of the season. The players were on the field, but there was no one in the stands, the place was vacant! It was eerie, I could have sat any place in the ballpark I wanted.

[MUSIC IN]

During the game, Gladys Gooding, who was the organist, everything she played was a blue song about losing a lover. And after the game I remember leaving and she was playing Auld Lang Syne and then they cut her off in the middle, and they put the Dodger theme song on.

[MUSIC IN]

When I walked out of Ebbets Field, I stood a block away and just looked back, the lights were still on, and I said, you know, goodbye, it’s over. I never thought the Dodgers would leave. It was like a divorce, you felt like a child in a divorce; you had no control over what was happening. And I couldn’t make it any clearer than that.

There was a period of time I wouldn’t even go to a ball game and I had no recollection of what happened in, ’58, ’59, ’60, ’70, ’80, you know, no recollection whatsoever. And I’m sure wonderful things happen, but I’ve just completely blocked it out of my mind. And to this day I miss it terribly, I miss it terribly.

And that’s it for this episode. These stories were produced by Liyna Anwar, Nadia Reiman, and me with special thanks to Alex Reisner. The podcast is produced by me and Elisheba Ittoop. Find out what music we used on our website, StoryCorps dot org, and don’t forget to leave us a review on iTunes. Thank you to everybody who’s written so far, we’ve been reading every single one.

Until next time, I’m Michael Garofalo and this has been the StoryCorps podcast. Thanks for listening.